


One Left Turn

by suzyturquoiseblue03



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman and Robin (Comics), DCU, DCU (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Robin (Comics), Robin (Comics), Under the Red Hood
Genre: Alternate Timeline, Alternate Universe, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2018-12-08 15:42:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11649651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suzyturquoiseblue03/pseuds/suzyturquoiseblue03
Summary: There was an unfamiliar boy seated at the dining room table when Jason came down for breakfast. Jason stopped outside the dining room door and blearily looked around to for Alfred or for Dick who had returned from a mission with the Teen Titans the night before. He knew that Bruce wouldn’t be there because he was in Haiti rescuing a wealthy Gotham couple who had been kidnapped earlier in the week.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All characters belong to DC, not me.

There was an unfamiliar boy seated at the dining room table when Jason came down for breakfast. Jason stopped outside the dining room door and blearily looked around to for Alfred or for Dick who had returned from a mission with the Teen Titans the night before. He knew that his Dad wouldn’t be there because he was in Haiti rescuing a wealthy Gotham couple who had been kidnapped earlier in the week. 

 

Finding that neither Dick nor Alfred where anywhere in sight, Jason proceeded into the dining room. The boy took no notice of his arrival. His attention seemed to be riveted on the plate of eggs, bacon and toast in front of him but he wasn’t eating. Jason walked around to his usual seat across from the boy who still didn’t look up. Jason jostled his chair against the table and scraped it noisily across the floor before plopping down on it. The other boy still didn’t look up from his untouched plate. 

 

“Hello?” Jason tried. 

 

There was still no response from the boy. The noise however summoned Alfred from the kitchen, Dick close on his heels. 

 

“Good morning Master Jason,” Alfred greeted as he placed a breakfast plate in front of Jason. “Master Timothy, is breakfast not to your liking? Would you prefer fruit, or perhaps oatmeal or cereal?” 

 

The boy finally looked up and Jason’s heart sank. Now that he could see the boy’s face Jason recognized him from photos he’s seen on the BatComputer earlier in the week. It was Tim Drake the son of Jack and Janet Drake, the couple his Dad had gone to Haiti to rescue. If he had been brought to the manor, things must not be going well in Haiti. 

 

“No, thank you Mr. Pennyworth,” Tim whispered. “I’m sure this is delicious. I’m just not hungry.” 

 

“Tim.” Dick went around the table and sat down next to the younger boy. “I’m Dick Grayson.” 

 

“I know.” Tim stated flatly.

 

Dick blinked in surprise but continued, “I know this is hard. I lost my parents too -” 

 

“I know.” Tim repeated. “I was there.” 

 

They all stared at him. Even Alfred set the coffee pot on the table with an audible clunk rather than refilling Dick’s cup. 

 

“I - what?” Dick asked.

 

“I was there.” Tim’s voice and face were emotionless. “I was at the circus when they died. We took a picture together before the show. I sat on your knee and you hugged me. Then you told me -”

 

“That I’d do my quadruple flip for you.” Dick completed his voice soft and a bit shaky. 

 

“You didn’t get to though, because they fell, and you were crying and then -” Tim’s voice cut off abruptly, his jaw clenching and his whole body tensing. He looked away from Dick. 

 

Dick stared at him for a moment then laid a hand on his shoulder. “I still have the picture up in my room.” 

 

“My parents sent it to you. They thought you’d want it.” 

 

“I’m sorry I won’t be able to thank them for it. I’m sorry you’ve lost them.” 

 

Jason felt sick to his stomach. He couldn’t believe that his Dad had failed to save the Drakes. He wondered what went wrong. He wondered why his Dad had had the boy brought to the manor. Was he there because he was in danger and they were going to protect him or was his Dad going to adopt him too?

 

“I didn’t lose them.” Tim’s flat affect was gone replaced with a sudden blaze of anger. “They aren’t homework or a jacket. They’re my parents and they were murdered.” 

 

Dick winced. “I know, Tim. I’m sorry. That was a shitty way to put it.” 

 

Tim shoved away from Dick’s hand and stood up. “I don’t want to be here.” He directed this at Alfred. 

 

“I am sorry Master Timothy,” Alfred replied calmly, “but as I explained earlier Master Bruce called Commissioner Gordon as soon as the news about your parents reached him and offered to have you stay here so that you wouldn’t be put into foster care while your parents’ affairs were being handled. He is currently out of town on an urgent business trip -”

 

Tim snorted. “I bet.”

 

Jason and Dick traded bemused glances but Alfred, ever unflappable, continued as though the boy hadn’t spoken. “ - but he will return by this evening. I am sure that if you don’t wish to remain with us he will make other arrangements for you then. In the meantime if you would like to rest I would be happy to show you to your room.” 

 

“Please.” Tim’s voice had lost all fight and he wrapped his arms tightly around himself. Jason wondered if he just wanted to escape their presence before he started crying. 

 

“Right this way, Sir,” Alfred said kindly and led the boy from the dining room. 

 

“Was it just me or was there something off about that?” Jason demanded as soon as they were out of earshot. 

 

Dick tore his eyes away from the doorway and looked at Jason. “Barely three hours ago the headmaster at his school woke him up to tell him that his parents were dead. Then Alfred showed up to bring him here. He’s in shock.” 

 

“What happened? To the Drakes I mean.” 

 

Dick shook his head. “That’s what I was asking Alfred when you came down. The news hasn’t said anything other than confirming their deaths and all B did when he called was arrange for Tim to come stay. Hopefully, he’ll fill us in when he gets here.” 


	2. Chapter 2

Alfred Pennyworth believed that giving young men chores helped build their characters. One of the first tasks Dick had been assigned upon coming to live at Wayne Manor had been clearing the table after meals and, when he didn't have school, washing the dishes, after he had left the task had been passed on to Jason. Dick had taken it over when he moved back home while Jason and Bruce had been staying in Boston, and now that they were both living the Manor they shared the task. Dick could have begged off once Jason had returned but he enjoyed the time it gave him with his younger brother every day. 

Jason had been quiet while they finished breakfast, but once they were elbow-deep in the sudsy water he asked, "do you think Dad's going to adopt him?" 

"Maybe." Dick reached out and snatched a plate from Jason's hand. "You only need to scrub off the food, Little Wing, not the pattern." 

Jason flicked at the soap bubbles. "Do you think he'd make him Robin?" 

"He already has a Robin." Dick rinsed the plate and reached into the sink for another. 

Jason gripped the edge of the sink until his knuckles turned white. "A broken one." 

The dish Dick had been washing clattered back into the water splashing them both as Dick yanked Jason into a crushing hug. "You are not broken."

Jason pressed his face into Dick shoulder as his body began to shake with sobs. 

Dick clutched his brother closer with his left arm and carded the fingers of his right hand through Jason's hair, as he waited for the younger boy to cry himself out. It was the only way to deal with Jason’s episodes. 

Almost a year before Dick had called Bruce to tell him that he wouldn't be attending a gala that was being held later that month to honor Bruce's philanthropic work. He had hoped to hear some disappointment or hurt in Bruce's response to his pronouncement that he couldn’t be bothered to find the time come to the gala, but the older man had barely seemed to notice. 

Then, just as Dick was preparing to end the call, Bruce had queried, "Dick, have you heard from Jason?"

"Why? Have you finally managed to run him off too?" 

The silence on the other end of the line had told him everything he needed to know. "Jesus Christ, Bruce." 

"If you do hear from him please let me know. I'd go after him, but the Joker escaped Arkham last night." 

"Of course." 

Bruce had only sighed in response. Then quietly, carefully, "I know you're busy with your own things, but would there be any chance you might have time to go -" 

"No."

"All righ-" 

"Not because I’m too busy but because it's not my job. You adopted Jason. You go after him. I will deal with the Joker so that you can go, though." 

There had been a long silence, then the sound of Bruce drawing in breath, and Dick had prepared to hang up on him in righteous indignation, but all Bruce had said was, "Gaspar Taylor." 

"Huh?" 

"He's my best lead on the Joker's whereabouts. I'll send you the address. In the meantime, I'll start tracing Jason." 

Dick, or more accurately, Nightwing, had dropped in on Taylor on his way to the Bat Cave. He had knocked the man out before he could get any information from him but had found a packed suitcase, a ticket to Lebanon, and the address to a warehouse. At the warehouse it became clear that the Joker had left with a nuclear weapon. 

Upon arriving at the Bat Cave, he had found Bruce preparing to leave. He had discovered that Jason had used the Computer to research three women with connections to Willis Todd and had bought a ticket to Lebanon, and after Dick had brought Bruce up to speed on his own Lebanon lead they had decided to travel there together. 

Tracing Jason had proved relatively easy, much simpler than locating the Joker, and with the way the boy's face had lit up when he saw Bruce and Dick had made Dick glad that he'd traveled with Bruce. 

Jason had explained that one of the three women he was tracking was his biological mother. It had quickly become evident that their two cases were linked so Dick had joined the search for Jason's mother and Batman and Robin had joined the search for the Joker. 

Both searches had eventually led them to Ethiopia. Sheila Hayworth, the last woman on Jason's list, and his biological mother was working in a refugee camp there. Unfortunately, it turned out that she and the Joker had known each other in Gotham. They had in fact been associates of a sort, and the Joker was now blackmailing Hayworth so that she would assist him in some scheme. Part of that plan had involved switching a shipment of medications to other camps with poison, so Nightwing had gone after the truck while Bruce and Jason approached Sheila to offer their help with her Joker problem. 

Nightwing had stopped the shipment was changing back into Dick Grayson on the edge of the camp when an explosion had rocked the air. He had taken off running for the explosion site while still pulling his shirt on. It had been a warehouse in the middle of the camp. As Dick neared the warehouse his blood ran cold. 

He could hear Bruce screaming. "My son! My son! Someone help my son! Someone help him!" 

Dick had thrown on a burst of speed and rounded the last building separating him from the warehouse. Bruce was kneeling in the dirt in front of the burning building with Jason's body cradled in his arms. Sheila Haywood lay unconscious nearby. Jason had been severely beaten, and there was blood covering both him and Bruce. As Dick slid to his knees in front of his father and brother he had realized that Jason's skull had been split open.

Swallowing back bile, he had demanded, "The Joker?" As desperate as Jason's situation had been it would only have become worse if they were attacked again. 

Bruce had stopped screaming for help and blinked at him. Then he tilted his chin to the burning warehouse. "I wasn't able to go back for him before the bomb went off." 

Then the camp's medical staff had been on them gently prizing Jason from Bruce's arms and carrying him toward the clinic. Time had seemed to slow as they were held outside the clinic while the medical personnel bustled in and out shouting to one another. 

They hadn’t been waiting long when the doctor who was second in command to Haywood approached them. He explained ha the clinic did not have the facilities to treat Jason. They had sent for a helicopter to transport him to Addis Ababa. He went on to inform them that while the hospital in Adds Ababa should be able to stabilize Jason in the short term, it was unlikely that they would be able to provide the care he needed. 

“What I’m saying Mr. Wayne is that I know that Wayne Enterprises provides Angel Flights around the globe. You need to arrange one to take your son either to Europe or the States. I can let you use the phone in Sheila’s office to make the arrangements.” 

The doctor had led them into the office and given them the information on the hospital Jason would need to be transported to. 

Bruce had made the call, but when Alfred answered, he was unable to speak. 

Dick had taken the receiver from him. 

“Master Bruce? Master Bruce, is that you sir?” Alfred’s voice would have seemed impeccably calm to most but to someone who knew him as well as Dick did the undercurrent of alarm was evident. 

“Alfred? It’s Dick.” 

“Master Dick, is everything all right?” 

“No. Bruce and Jason were attacked by the Joker." Dick had leaned against the desk for support as he was forced to speak the words. 

Alfred's sharp intake of breath had reverberated down the line. "Dear God." 

Dick had closed his eyes and forced himself to continue, "Jason - Jason - it’s bad Alfie. The doctors say they aren’t equipped to treat him here. That we need to arrange an Angel Flight.” 

"Do you have the information for the hospital in Ethiopia?" Alfred asked.

Dick had relayed the information the clinic doctor had given him. "But we're still at the refugee camp clinic right now. They've sent for a helicopter to get Jason to the hospital." 

"Very good, sir." Alfred's voice had softened, "I'm going to need you tell me as much as you can about Master Jason's injuries." 

Dick had relayed as much information as he was able. 

"And Master Bruce?"

Dick had surveyed Bruce where he had collapsed in the desk chair staring at the wall. "No real physical injuries but I think he's in shock." 

"Understandable." Then ever so gently, "And yourself, dear boy?" 

"I wasn't there." 

Alfred had sighed, "That was not what I was inquiring about Master Dick." 

"I – I, just get help for Jason, all right Alfie?"

"Indeed, Master Dick. Indeed. Take care, and I beg of you please do not do anything foolish like going after that maniac alone." 

"The Joker? He's dead, Alfie, blown up by his own bomb." 

There had been a long moment of silence on Alfred's end of the line. "Thank God." The butler had finally breathed, "Thank God." 

After hanging up the call with Alfred Dick had paced around the office. Eventually, two men in uniform had entered the room them wanting Bruce to account for what had happened. Bruce, who still hadn't spoken, hadn't even seemed to register their presence. It had taken Dick shaking his shoulder and explaining what the men wanted to get him talking. 

"My sons and I came here looking for Jason's biological mother, Sheila Haywood." He had told them. "We quickly realized that she was in some legal trouble. I wanted to offer her help, so Jason and I approached her while Dick went exploring. It turned out though that she was tangled up with the Joker, a wanted felon from our hometown of Gotham. She turned Jason and myself over to him because we had figured out too much about their operation. 

He recognized me. I own a large corporation in Gotham and have a bit of money. He decided to hold me for ransom. Since he felt that would be more profitable than whatever scheme he was working here, he chose to kill Haywood. 

Jason tried to intervene, and the Joker began beating him with a crowbar. We were bound, so Jason was unable to defend himself. 

I had been working on my bonds since we were tied and was able to get loose and use the ropes to strangle the Joker until he was unconscious. 

Joker had set a bomb before sending his henchmen out to fetch their getaway vehicle. I don't know where the henchmen ended up." 

"They were apprehended several miles from here," one of the uniformed men had volunteered. 

Bruce had continued without seeming to register the response. "By the time I stopped the Joker I had less than a minute to get us all out of the warehouse. I carried Jason out first, then went back to for Haywood, but I didn't make it in time for the Joker." 

The men had thanked Bruce for his statement and said that they would arrest Haywood and let the Gotham police know about the Joker's presumed demise. They wished Jason a full and speedy recovery and were turning away when the medical helicopter had landed at the camp. 

The doctors in Adis Ababa had been able to stabilize Jason until the Angel Flight had arrived the next morning. It had flown them to Boston where Jason had undergone brain surgery. 

After the surgery, the doctors had sat down with them all to explain Jason’s condition. He had yet to regain consciousness, and they weren’t sure that he would. If he did the road to recovery would be long, and he might never be the same boy that he had been before the attack, not only was there no way to tell what permanent physical injury there might be, Traumatic Brain Injury could also change a person’s personality. The family needed to brace themselves for worst and pray for the best. 

Jason’s road to recovery had required another brain surgery, as well as an operation to reconstruct his collarbone. He had spent two months in the hospital, then he and Bruce had remained in Boston for another three months for rehabilitation treatment. A year later he was, in many ways, the same young man who had run away to find his mother, there were two significant differences though. 

The first was the seizures. When Jason had finally regained consciousness, he had complained of what he described as electrical storms in his head and on the worst days throughout his body. After running yet another battery of tests, the doctors had diagnosed him with partial complex seizures. 

The second was the crying jags. Before the attack, Jason had been a primarily happy boy, though occasionally prone to losing his temper. Now he seemed to express strong emotions only by crying. He would start sobbing when he was frustrated, angry, sad, and on occasion even when he was particularly happy, although the happiness tended to fade with his frustration at not being able to stop crying. Dick, Bruce, and Alfred had all become experts at both soothing him and recognizing the signs of an oncoming episode so they could remove him from stressful situations. Sometimes, though, they just had to let things play out. It was, the doctors assured them, part of helping Jason acclimate back into everyday life. 

Jason had returned to school after midterms, but he had yet to be allowed to act as Robin again. Bruce had set the stipulation that he had to go a year without seizures before he could begin serious training again. They had all talked to Jason about it together, trying to soften the blow, and at the time Dick had thought that Jason had understood that they were worried about his health and safety. Robin couldn’t have a seizure while swinging between buildings or fighting, it could be fatal, and they had already come so close to losing Jason. None of them could bear to think of him being hurt again. Now he realized that the decision had been weighing on the boy more than he had let them know. He made a mental note to talk to Bruce about it. 

Jason’s breathing began to even out, and Dick loosened his hold enough to prop his forehead against his younger brother’s. “You are not broken,” he repeated. “That bastard hurt you Jay, but he did not break you. And B isn’t going to replace you. You’re our Robin, and even if Tim does become part of the family that isn’t going to change. Understand?”

Jason didn’t respond, so Dick gave him a gentle shake. “Jay?”

“I had a seizure yesterday during my trig final,” Jason whispered. 

Dick pulled Jason back in and kissed his temple. “You still aren’t broken, Jay. The doctors said that it could take awhile to get your Tegretol levels evened out. This sucks, but it doesn’t change anything. You’re Robin, and no one will take your place. Got it?”

Jason pulled away, smiling shakily. “Got it.”

They finished the dishes while debating how to spend the day then headed upstairs to change. 

Alfred met them at the top of the stairs. “Master Jason, I’ve made an appointment with Dr. Rodriguez. We need to be there in an hour.”

Jason groaned, “how did you know?” 

Alfred gave him an arch look. “Master Jason if you think I don’t know how you behave in the aftermath of a seizure I assure you, you are quite mistaken.”

Dick laughed at his younger brother’s disgruntled expression. “Want me to come with?”

Jason nodded eagerly. 

“Actually sir, one of us needs to remain here with Master Timothy,” Alfred reminded him gently. “I suppose you could take Master Jason to the doctor and I could remain here.”

Dick shook his head. “No, you need to take Jay, Alfie. You know B will want a detailed report and you speak doctor more fluently than me.”

“I can handle getting my blood drawn without you,” Jason told Dick, but he looked disappointed. 

“We’ll watch movies and play video games when you get back,” Dick promised him. 

“Cool,” Jason grinned at Dick before heading to his room. 

“Master Dick,” Alfred rested a hand on Dick’s shoulder. 

“Alfie?”

“I wanted to apologize for this morning.” 

When Dick stared at the butler blankly, he elaborated, “I knew that Timothy was present at the circus the night your parents died, due to the picture they sent you. I had forgotten. I apologize for not preparing you.”

Dick hugged the butler, “Alfie, its okay. They sent the picture a long time ago. I didn’t expect you to remember.”

“Very well,” Alfred gave him an appraising look. “You are sure you’ll be all right here with Master Timothy. I wouldn’t leave you but –“

Dick waved him off. “We’ll be fine. I’m just going to get dressed and then I’ll go check on him.”


End file.
